


When I said I'll never let you go

by thp_cara (TheHolosexualPan)



Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Loneliness, Multi, Sleepy Cuddles, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, we love ourselves some somft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-18 13:07:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28618536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHolosexualPan/pseuds/thp_cara
Summary: Mumbo feels a little left out, is all.
Relationships: Mumbo Jumbo/Grian/Docm77
Comments: 10
Kudos: 70





	When I said I'll never let you go

**Author's Note:**

> This is inspired by an artwork a very talented friend made ^^

Maybe it’s because he feels left out, Mumbo thinks as he looks through his chests for any remaining golden apples, the beat of his base’s heart loud in his ears, resembling the echo of an earthquake, loud but not dangerous. He finds a few, eventually, stashed away in his redstone box, for some reason, and he sets out on feeding his living tower of a base with a reluctant sigh.

They’ve all been busy, Mumbo with his own shops and Pacific endeavours, not to mention busying himself with more redstone machineries than usual over in his industrial district, and Grian and Doc had just finished playing their part in the Turf War. A break had seemed like the best idea for them, and, at least, that’s what Mumbo keeps telling himself this is about, because if he lets himself believe anything else, it starts hurting.

It  _ already _ hurts, trying to remember when they had lost gone out together, all three of them, really, when they had spent any time together, because try as they might, with Doc having to visit a few friends off world and with Grian starting a whole different conflict based on dirt of all things, time had seemed to just slip between their fingers and, before he knew it, Mumbo had been left alone, and he’s been alone before and, of course, he is aware that his boyfriends need their own space, not to mention the fact that he’s used the time to work on his industrial district. But then Doc had returned.

Mumbo had thought that, though it wouldn’t be the same without all of them together, that perhaps he’ll feel… That things would, regardless, be less monotonous if he got to spend time with one of his lovers at least, but then Grian had asked Doc to join the Mycelium Resistance, and of course, with Grian being the one to proposition him and with the promise of being allowed to set up more creative traps and minigames, it hadn’t been a hard choice. Mumbo had been happy,  _ is _ happy that they had enjoyed themselves, and he can’t say that he isn’t proud of the progress he’s made while on his own, but it still feels wrong.

With a deep breath, Mumbo steps into the green area in the lowest part of his base, where the edges of his tower merge into the manufactured jungle around him, the shadows of the wrench-structures elongating with the slowly sinking sun, its light growing ever dimmer as Mumbo looks at the way it makes the whole jungle look almost eerily still, for just that single moment, bathed in stark colours as it is. And still, the red of the sky brings back images of an incredibly soft sweater and of a glowing, crimson eye. It draws another wistful sigh from his lips. 

He has to reassure himself, once again, that it’s fine. Doc and Grian need their break, they’ve had enough stress with preparing for and partaking in the last showdown of this latest play pretend, but  _ God _ , is Mumbo feeling the loneliness creep up on him. It finds him when he is on his own, hands stained with redstone dust, head hurting as he looks for a mistake that he will probably smack himself in the face for later, it finds him as he munches on one food or another in the Shopping District, sticking around in the hopes of catching a glimpse of green or red, and it finds him alone in bed, when it’s late enough that the looming darkness of night and the peace that comes with it is already giving way to a pink dawn, after a day that has gone on for too long already, and Mumbo can only find more things to do as he waits.

And so, these days, Mumbo doesn’t sleep as well or as much as he should, and maybe he is working a tad more than usual, if only because it keeps the less forgiving thoughts of being alone at bay, but it’s fine. Grian and Doc will visit him, eventually, once they’re in better shape, and that will be that. 

* * *

What Mumbo doesn’t account for in his plan of, possibly, overworking himself into an early grave and of keeping up his spirits, at least on the surface, is an overexcited Tango, leaves hanging off of his elytra wings, vines caught on the horns of his Christmas hat, crashing into Mumbo just as he is about to leave for the Nether, almost knocking both of them over and into the swirling purple of the portal.

“Morning Mumbo!”, he says once he jumps back up on his feet, brushing the dust off of his pants and, more importantly, given the careful way he goes about it, off of his bunny slippers, “Whatcha up to today?”

And Mumbo is about to answer when, after a short exclamation of a laugh, Tango is grabbing Mumbo by the shoulders and pulling him down until they are at eye level.

“Well then?”, and he sounds so happy that it puts a smile on Mumbo’s face, even if he is a bit tired, but the world is slightly black around the edges with dizziness because of the sudden movement, so maybe just  _ slightly _ more than a bit, he thinks, but Mumbo  _ is _ happy to see Tango.

“Just, you know, going out and about to gather some resources”, Mumbo stutters over a lugh of his own once Tange steps back, one of his feet bouncing in place, the bunny ears on it moving along with it.

“Oh, that makes everything easier! I’m sure you’ve got a little bit of time on your hands, then?”, Tango asks and he seems just about ready to burst out of his skin with enthusiasm, so Mumbo nods quickly and, before he knows it, he is being pulled along into the Nether, Tango’s ringing and joyous chatter of  _ gift, gift, gift _ following behind them.

And so, Mumbo is basically plomped down into a knee-deep layer of snow in front of what must be the largest advent calendar he’s ever seen, and it’s a beautiful build, one Mumbo would be sure to admire if he couldn’t feel the clattering of his own teeth in his damn brain, the cold all but paralyzing him, that is, until Tango grabs his elbow and pulls him forward.    
It gets warmer the closer they get to the fireplace which, surprisingly, or not, and Mumbo considers Tango, is actually lit, the flames probably enchanted to last and merrily crackling and popping and allowing Mumbo to move again without feeling like he’ll just fall over into the snow, exhausted as he is and feeling the cold even more so because of that. But as close as they are now, Mumbo comes to realise just how enormous the gifts, labelled with the days of the month, or at least, most of them, accordingly, the colourful wool looking barely touched by the elements, are. He almost cannot believe that one of these presents are meant for him, or at least, that’s what Mumbo has managed to catch from Tango’s rambling, and before Mumbo can turn around to thank Tango for everything, the sound of firework rockets, louder and that much more surprising than normal flight rockets, goes off behind him and Mumbo finds himself alone in front of his own gift. He shakes his head fondly before contemplating whether he has any shears on him and, ultimately, deciding that ripping into the soft fabric with his hands will have to do.

Mumbo doesn’t know what to expect, though his heart is already seizing up at the sheer thoughtfulness of the whole thing, but it’s what a short yell that Mumbo is all but tackled to the ground in a hug.

There’s the sound of commotion, then silence.

Mumbo looks up, his eyes stinging, and he doesn’t know if it is because of the lack of quality sleep or something else, because there they are. The two people he’s been wishing for,  _ yearning _ for for what feels like too long already, the two people he hadn’t expected to see are right here and Mumbo just lays there, Grian and Doc piled on top of him, crushing him, but Mumbo wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

Still, the wheezed out  _ hi _ does cue his lovers into leaning back and letting him breathe, but even that doesn’t last long as they draw him into a hug, the three of them kneeling at the edge of the giant shelf. Finally, the quiet falls away with the instinctual laughter spawned from pure joy as they get to hold each other again and, maybe Mumbo had distracted himself from feeling it, their absence, but it comes crashing down on him now, and maybe the laughter turns into sobs, gradually, but Doc’s hands card through black strands of hair and Grian nuzzles his cheek and they just hold him through it. Suddenly, it feels right again, like the puzzle pieces that were missing from his heart fall back into place, warm and familiar, and Mumbo can only hold onto them too, as best as he can, happy beyond tears.

* * *

As it turns out, Tango had decided that, since Grian and Doc wanted to surprise Mumbo with a date once they’d recovered, he would help them with the arrangements and, really, Mumbo had enjoyed the dinner served on the rug in front of a fireplace, the cabin housing the cozy hideaway having been built from scratch not too far from the Christmas Area precisely for this purpose, and kisses had been exchanged, confessions whispered in the dark long after the sun had set, soft touches lingering, leaving Mumbo even warmer than the roaring fire. 

Nothing compares to this, though. Held between his boyfriends, their sleeping faces next to his, arms and legs tangled together in a mess that will probably get a bit too hot for the thick comforter covering the three of them, Mumbo feels so safe and, if he really thinks about, he just feels like he is right where he is supposed to be. Grian lets out a soft noise and cuddles closer and Doc’s arms, both the rougher, creeper-textured one and the metal limb, tighten around Mumbo and Grian almost subconsciously.    
Mumbo smiles and relaxes further in Doc’s hold, leaning in to lay a kiss against Grian’s forehead and squeezing Doc’s mechanical fingers where they rest underneath his body, the warmth of their bodies making the metal feel pleasantly warm as well.

Mumbo falls asleep like that and, for the first time in a bit, he wakes up well rested, and he opens his eyes to his face being kissed all over, giggles escaping him.

It’s the best gift he could have asked for.

**Author's Note:**

> I promise I am working on the MCHZZF (Until the stars all fall down, alternatively, the miscellaneous Cara hurts Zed Zit fic), but it's taking a bit of time to get my ideas in order. I do hope you enjoy these smaller works I've been posting too though!


End file.
